


i still don't know how to be yours

by jennycaakes



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Exes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: When they’d turned casually hooking-up their senior year into a real relationship, Holster kind of thought he was done with dating forever. He thought Ransom was his person. They were best friends. They fit so fucking well together. They literally moved into Haus 2.0 together and worked together. It’d been a non-issue.But then Ransom wanted to go back to school, which was great! It really was. Holster knew Ransom was gonna be one kickass doctor eventually. And they’d talked about it, and Ransom moved out so he could be closer to school, and then the work piled up, and then there was fighting, and--It’s been three years.





	1. party

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this forever ago and then stopped because it made me sad! but fuck it! i'm sad all the time anyway! so i finished it! hope it hurts!

The first time Holster sees Ransom is three years, to the day, after their break-up.

There definitely should’ve been some time in the middle of those three years that they saw each other, what with Samwell reunions and games and supporting Jack and partying with their friends, but they haven’t. When Ransom went to med school he kind of dropped off the face of the planet, and losing Ransom forced Holster to throw himself into his work.

So, yeah. Three years. To the day.

Instead of moping in his apartment about what he lost all that time ago, Holster asks Lardo if she knows of anything going on, and that’s how he ends up at a house party with her and Shitty in the suburbs of Boston.

And Ransom is here. With a girl.

He spots them when Lardo drags him into the kitchen to get a drink, and before Ransom can notice him Holster turns on his heel and practically sprints outside to catch his breath.

Three years.

When they’d turned casually hooking-up their senior year into a  _real relationship_ , Holster kind of thought he was done with dating forever. He thought Ransom was his person. They were best friends. They fit so fucking well together. They literally moved into Haus 2.0 together and worked together. It’d been a non-issue.

But then Ransom wanted to go back to school, which was great! It really was. Holster knew Ransom was gonna be one kickass doctor eventually. And they’d talked about it, and Ransom moved out so he could be closer to school, and then the work piled up, and then there was fighting, and--

It’s been three years.

Lardo finds him first.

“You didn’t tell me Rans would be here,” Holster murmurs, pressing his hands to his face.

“I didn’t know,” Lardo says. The pointed tone of her voice leads him to believe her. “When’s the last time you saw him?”

It’s not like Holster was actively avoiding him, but he was also actively avoiding him. Their break-up fractured their friend group in ways that sometimes seemed irreparable and made most get togethers an incomplete mess. So one of them would RSVP and the other wouldn’t go, or vice versa, or neither of them went just to be safe.

At least that was how Holster started operating. And since he’d never run into Ransom, Holster figured it was probably more of the same.

“Maybe I should leave,” Holster says instead of answering.

Lardo frowns. “You drove us here.”

“Oh my God I need a drink so bad Lards.”

“One sec.”

She disappears inside again and Holster readjusts his hands on his face. It’s cool outside, cooler than inside that’s for sure, and that’s good because cold is the only thing that’s going to stop his stomach from rolling.

When Lardo return she thrusts a glass into his hand (because they’re  _adults_ now and apparently adults don’t drink out of red plastic cups at parties) that’s full of something dark. It’s strong when he takes a swig, and then he finishes it off in less glugs than he really should. When he lowers the glass, she looks sad.

“When’s the last time you saw him?” she asks again. There’s a sharpness to her voice that requires an answer and Holster immediately feels guilty. His friends have tried talking to him about Rans. All of them. Many times. Over many years. But Holster would shut down on them or yell at them or just disappear completely to not have to deal with it.

Holster exhales. “Before.”

“The break-up?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, Holtz.”

“We’ve talked,” he tells her, because it’s true. Scattered texts here and there to see how the other’s doing, a throwback photo from Timehop sent every now and then. But nothing substantial. And not for a few months at least. “But.”

“Fuck.” She looks toward the house. “Let me get you another drink.”

“Please.”

“I’ll be DD,” she calls over her shoulder as she enters.

Holster threads his fingers into his hair and tugs. He knows it’s stupid that he never got over Ransom. It’s just--they were more than boyfriends. Ransom was his best friend. Ride or die bro. They’ve seen each other through some real shit. And then to have him removed from his life so totally and completely and  _suddenly_ threw his entire world through a loop.

Not that Ransom was gone completely. They tried making friendship work. They’d done it before, after all, but Holster couldn’t handle it. To go from what he had created with Ransom to what it was before wasn’t an option for him. He didn’t know how to talk to Ransom anymore without it meaning something more for him.

Holster spent a few months fucking up repeatedly until Shitty pulled him aside and told him he either had to talk to Ransom or get his act together.

So he moved to New York and got a new job, because being in Boston hurt. Holster shaped up and he worked hard and then he moved back a couple of months ago because he missed his people and got offered a new position. It hasn’t been the same, and it’s not like he thinks about Ransom every day or anything like that, but Holster  _misses_ him. In so many fucking ways.

Lardo returns with another drink and Shitty in tow and they sit on either side of him while he holds the glass in his hands.

“It’s his girlfriend,” Shitty says in lieu of any form of comfort, and Holster nods. He’d assumed. “They’ve been together a couple of months. Someone from one of his classes, or something.”

Holster takes another swig. “What’s her name?”

“Penny. She’s nice.”

“Good,” Holster chokes out. “Fuck. Sorry guys.”

Shitty reaches up, running his fingers through Holster’s hair and messing it up. “Don’t sweat it brah. We get it.” Lardo shoots Shitty a pointed look, and Holster thinks maybe she doesn’t get it, when Shitty sighs. “And we told him you’re here.”

“Fuuuck.”

“Gotta talk to him sooner or later, dude,” Lardo says, and Holster nods again. He just wasn’t prepared to do this today. He was ready to be out with his friends and take care of their sloppy asses, not turn into the slop himself. “Five minutes. Then you gotta come back inside.”

“Yeah,” Holster agrees tiredly. They’re right. “Okay.”

Shitty plants a wet kiss on Holster’s cheek before helping Lardo stand, and together they disappear back into the party together. Holster wishes he had someone to call to calm him down. But that person used to be Ransom. And he hasn’t found anyone in the meantime. Nursey could give him a good pep-talk, maybe, or Bitty. But he really just wants to talk to Ransom about Ransom, and he can’t, and he hates this.

Besides, most of his friends are over his moping. They got tired of it real fast.

Holster hates this.

He finishes his second drink before heading back inside. Lardo smiles at him encouragingly when he spots her, and he tips his head back. It’ll be fine. This will be fine. Everything will be--

“Holtz!”

_Fuck it hurts._

Holster turns to Ransom striding toward him with the biggest smile on his face and for a moment, everything else falls away. It’s senior year again and it’s just the two of them planning drills for the team side by side and nothing else matters except being close to him. Holster’s mouth is dry and Ransom’s eyes are bright and no, nope, this is way too much.

Holster swallows. “Hey,” he greets.

“Shitty said you were here! I’ve been looking everywhere!”

Ransom holds open his arms like nothing’s changed and Holster couldn’t stop himself even if he’d sworn on his life that he’d never touch Ransom again. He strides forward, opening his own arms, and they wind themselves around each other like it doesn't snap something inside of him.

“It’s been too long Rans,” he rasps, and he feels Ransom nod.

“God, I know,” Ransom says as he pulls back. “Med school is kicking my ass.”

Holster exhales a laugh that is definitely not forced, if anyone asks. “Yeah.” He shoves his hands into his back pockets and his eyes feel like they’re burning and his throat is still dry. “You’ve been doing okay?” he manages to ask. “Other than generally dying because of school?”

Ransom laughs and Holster feels it in his stomach. “Yeah, I’ve been good. There’s actually someone--” he pauses, glancing over his shoulder, and this his smile slips away. “Um.”

“It’s cool,” Holster says quietly, eyes finding the girl that he saw Ransom with earlier. She strides forward, winding her arm around Ransom’s waist like it’s the most natural thing she’s ever done, and leans into his side. “You must be Penny,” Holster says.

“And you must be Adam,” Penny says. She’s beautiful. Totally Ransom’s type. Bright brown eyes and long, wavy blonde hair. She smiles like she means it and maybe she does. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she says.

Holster hands out his his hand to shake hers. Even her hand is warm. “None of it’s true,” he tells her. She laughs. “It’s nice to meet you,” he lies, because that’s what you’re supposed to say to your ex’s new partner when you meet them. Ransom’s face has remained neutral since her arrival other than that small dip appearing between his eyebrows that always used to show up when he was stressed. “You taking care of this one?” he asks, gesturing to Ransom.

“As much as he lets me,” Penny tells him. “I--”

“ _HOLTZ!”_ Lardo shouts suddenly, and everyone turns to face her. “I need a beer pong partner!”

“Where’d Shitty go?” Ransom asks, eyebrows furrowed more now.

“Someone has a bong,” Lardo says with a shrug. “C’mon!”

Holster manages another smile when he turns back to Ransom and Penny. “Duty calls,” he says. Ransom manages a smile, but it looks forced, and Penny says something about seeing him around considering they’re still at the same party. He hurries to join Lardo’s side and reaches out, squeezing her shoulder gratefully.

“You good?”

“I owe you.”

“Nah. Let’s just kick some ass.”

Holster lets himself loosen up some. With the greeting of Ransom over, with Ransom knowing that he’s here, things are a little easier. The alcohol helps.

He and Lardo set up against some of her friends from her gallery connections and they  _kick ass_. Lardo’s great at beer pong anyway, so Holster has to carry his weight, and it’s nice to have something to focus on. His back is to the rest of the party, to Ransom and Penny, and all he has to worry about is sinking ball after ball into the cup.

Until Shitty returns. “La _rissa_ ,” he calls. Lardo holds her hands up to her face with a groan. “Lards! Urgent!”

“God only knows,” she mutters under her breath, but she’s smiling. She looks up to Holster, and then around. “Uhhh. Rans!” she shouts.

“Traitor,” Holster hisses.

“Sub in!” Lardo presses, ignoring Holster’s puppy dog eyes. He turns in time to find Ransom, sitting on the couch with his arm over Penny’s shoulder, slowly making his way to his feet. Penny is pushing him forward, encouraging him to Holster’s side. “Don’t blow this for us,” she says, handing him the ping pong ball.

“Me?” Ransom asks. “Never. This one?” he asks, turning to Holster who may be a little slanted now due to the consumption of More Alcohol. “Maybe.”

“Shuddup, Rans.”

Ransom laughs. “We gotchu, Lards.” He reaches up, like nothing’s happened between them at all, and rests his hand gently on Holster’s back. “Right, Holtz?”

Holster can pretend like nothing’s happened, too. “Chyeah.” He elbows Ransom, just a little. “Your turn, bro.”

Ransom sinks his shot with ease.

It’s simpler than Holster thought it would be. He and Ransom laugh at stupid comments the other makes. They kick some more ass. When they get points, they celebrate with high fives and fist bumps that shift into arms over shoulders and lingering touches. More than once they get called out because they’re just looking at each other, and it’s their turn but they keep missing it because  _wow_ his eyes are still so soft and brown and  _God_ Holster still loves him more than he knows what to do with, and--

“Good game,” Holster finally says once it’s over. Lardo never returned, which was probably her plan. She and Shitty are likely scheming. They won, because even after years apart they find one another’s rhythm with no time at all. “Makes me miss Samwell.”

“Makes me miss a lot of things,” Ransom returns.

Holster swallows. His eyes drift, over to Penny who’s watching the two of them with a small smile. The girls that they played are setting up to play someone else.

“Maybe you should--” Holster starts.

“She wants me hang out with my friends,” Ransom cuts him off, almost as though knowing what Holster was going to say. And he probably did. They’ve always known each other so well. “You’re my friend.”

“Rans,” he whispers.

“Can we just talk?” Ransom asks, reaching out to grab Holster’s forearm. He guides Holster a few steps away from the beer pong table. “I just…” he trails off as they lean against the wall. “Tell me about your life, yeah? What are you doing back in Boston?”

Holster hesitates. He shouldn’t do this. But alcohol has made him weaker than he already is and if Ransom wants to talk about life, Holster will talk about life until his lips fall off.

“I moved back a couple of months ago,” Holster tells him. Ransom probably knows the details through someone else, but it’s always nice to hear them firsthand. “A position opened up, and I missed people.”

“Yeah,” Ransom exhales. “I missed you.”

Never mind. Holster cannot do this.

So he says, “I missed you too.” Ransom drops his gaze. “I mean. It’s--” too much alcohol. He’s had too much alcohol and he’s way too sad to do this. “Just--I’m happy for you, yeah?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for  _years_ , Adam,” he says, sounding just as sad as Holster feels.

“No I haven’t.”

“You really mean to tell me that by  _pure happenstance_ we haven’t seen each other in three years?” Ransom pushes.

“It’s not my fault that looking at you hurts,” Holster snaps.

Suddenly Ransom reaches out, grabbing Holster’s wrist, and quickly pulls him through the party. They take a few turns until they end up down a hallway and Ransom throws open a door, pushing Holster inside, before slamming it shut behind them. It’s a closet, small and cramped, and it’s lucky that there’s a light that they can flick on so they can see each other.

“Looking at me hurts?” Ransom asks, angry. “You’re the one who broke up with me!”

Holster blanches. “That was a mutual decision and don’t you ever fucking imply that it wasn’t.”

Ransom’s hands are balled into fists at his sides. “Well it was your idea,” he says.

“You cancelled on me for a month straight so I suggested that things weren’t working,” Holster returns, keeping his voice as even as possible. Week after week they tried to find time together but Ransom had class and exams and projects and presentations and there was none. “I didn’t expect us to--”

“To what?”

“I didn’t expect you to go along with it so easily,” Holster says. Ransom blinks at him. “Justin--” he chokes out, shaking his head. “God-- _fuck_ , I would’ve fought for you! For  _us_. But you seemed--it was like you were relieved that I said something because you weren’t going to.” Ransom’s face remains neutral. “You didn’t have time for us. That’s--fine. I accepted that.”

“You didn’t make time either,” Ransom shoots back.

“I would’ve tried.” He’d thought that had been clear when they broke it off. That Holster would’ve done anything to make them work. “I wanted to try.”

Ransom blinks again. “You never said.”

“ _Because you didn’t want me to_ ,” Holster stresses.

Ransom’s right. It was technically Holster’s idea. But saying,  _maybe this isn’t working_ wasn’t about their relationship as a whole. It was about how they were communicating. About how they structured their time together.

But when Ransom jumped right into,  _you think we should end this?_ Holster assumed that’s where his brain had been the whole time. And then later, when Ransom added,  _I don’t really have time to date right now anyway,_ it was over.

Ransom could’ve fought for them, too. But he didn’t. And neither did Holster. And then the daily texts of trying to hold onto something that resembled the friendship that they used to have turned into weekly, monthly, rarely.

“I never meant for things to end the way they did,” Ransom says quietly. He won’t meet Holster’s eyes, and that’s okay. Holster’s not sure he can meet Ransom’s eyes either. “You were my best friend, Holtz. I…” he swallows. “You were my best friend.”

Holster tugs Ransom into his arms because he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels like he’s going to cry. He never wanted things to end the way they did either, but what else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t the same afterwards and even texts and Snapchats and phone calls felt like too much, like he was crossing boundaries.

“I’m sorry,” Holster croaks. Ransom winds his arms around Holster’s waist and Holster nuzzles as close as he can. “I never wanted to lose you.”

“You haven’t,” Ransom rasps. “God, Holtz, I’ve been here the whole time.”

Holster’s really going to cry now. “You could’ve reached out too.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Ransom whispers. “I didn’t know where to start.”

Holster’s not sure how long they stand like that, wrapped in one another in the small closet of this random house party. But he doesn’t care. He breathes Ransom in, savors every touch. He runs his hands up Ransom’s back and lets himself remember the stretch of Ransom’s skin beneath his hands, the feel of Ransom’s body beneath his own. When it becomes too much to handle he pulls away, reaching up to swat at his eyes.

“We should get back,” he says. “Penny’ll wonder where you are.”

Ransom’s face shutters at once. “Holtz--”

“It’s okay,” Holster stops him. He doesn’t want to do this. He  _can’t_ do this. “She’s--she seems nice.” He tries to smile but he knows it must be a grimace. “She makes you happy, yeah?”

Ransom looks down. “She does.”

“Well okay. Then--that’s. Yeah.”

“She doesn’t know about you.” Ransom reaches out and grabs Holster’s hands, fingertips soft against fingertips. “I mean she does. But not.”

“That we were together?” Holster asks. He tugs his hand out of Ransom’s. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

Holster doesn’t know how to interpret that. Ransom’s happy now, with someone else. He only misses Holster as a friend. A best friend, but still just a friend. Ransom didn’t say it hurts to look at Holster. Ransom didn’t say that he wanted to try. Those were Holster’s words only. He can’t let himself read into anything and all he has are Ransom’s words.

Something inside of him aches. “Let’s get back,” Holster says again. He reaches for the door handle but Ransom reaches out again.

“Holtz I don’t want to do this without you anymore,” he rushes. For the first time all night, it looks like Ransom’s eyes are the ones full of tears. “I miss you. Okay? I miss you in my life.”

Holster twists their fingers together because he can’t help himself. He’s starved himself of this for  _three years_. “Rans…”

“Can’t we just be friends again?” he nearly cries. “Can’t we do that?”

Holster would find a way to give Ransom the moon if he asked for it. “We can try,” Holster whispers.

“I’m serious, Holtz,” he pushes, pitching himself forward to drop his forehead on Holster’s shoulder. “ _Please_. I’ll really try if you do too.”

“Of course,” Holster insists. If this is how he can have Ransom now, he’ll take it. And he’ll be okay. He’ll find a way to be okay with it. “Of course we can, Rans.”

It doesn’t matter that they tried being friends three years ago after they ended things, it might be different this time. Maybe they can find a balance that actually works for both of them.

It takes another few minutes but they eventually rejoin the party. Holster heads to the kitchen for another drink and Ransom sits down with Penny on the couch, his eyes following Holster as he disappears.

In the kitchen, he grips the counter and wills himself not to cry.

He takes a shot. Then another.

He goes to the bathroom and cries anyway.


	2. hockey

When Holster and Ransom broke up three years ago, Ransom kind of spiraled.

Holster said _maybe this isn’t working_ and Ransom short circuited, and the first thing he thought Holster meant was _them_. To make it work in his brain, Ransom fumbled for excuses.

 _I don’t really have time to date right now anyway_ , he remembers saying. And it was true, but he would’ve found time for Holster. He always would’ve found time for Holster. They were just adjusting. It was hard being back in school and having a boyfriend and balancing a social life on top of all of the work that needed to get done.

When they broke up, Ransom almost failed two courses.

Penny was the first person he’d seriously dated since Holtz, and she was great. Ransom met her in one of his lectures and she made him smile and it wasn’t the same, but love like Holster and Ransom only came around once in a lifetime.

And then Ransom sees Holster at the party and he _knows_ he’s never going to feel the same about Penny that he does about Holster. Because even after three years apart they know each other like they’ve never been more than just a room away.

And Penny sees it too, because that night in the car on the ride back to campus she says, “You two were together, weren’t you?”

Ransom grips the steering wheel. “Who?” he asks.

“Please don’t patronize me, Justin,” she says tiredly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He tells her a half-truth. One that is true to him and his experience, but not this relationship in particular. About how he’s been with multiple women who aren’t okay that he’s bisexual. And he _likes_ Penny. He wanted to give her more time to warm up to the idea. So he talked about Holster as a friend, because that’s what they were for a while.

“It’s not like I expected to see him tonight,” he exhales through his teeth.

“You’ve never looked at me the way you looked at him,” Penny says.

They break up the following week.

Holster keeps true to his word. He and Ransom text more often and have a Snapchat streak going, but it’s nothing like it used to be.

It’s better than nothing, at least. Knowing that to some degree he has Holster back in his life makes breathing so much easier.

They still don’t see each other, though. Maybe they’re not ready for it. Ransom wishes he was. Hearing Holster say that he would’ve tried--that he _wanted_ to try to make things work with Ransom--it makes him think there’s still hope for the two of them. But rushing it--friendship or anything else--is not the way to go.

When Jack texts the old group chat a couple of months later and invites everyone to one of his games (which is always a standing offer, but an invite feels important), Ransom almost can’t go. But he switches around some study groups and works through the night on one of his papers to make time for it.

Mostly because he supports Jack and it’s been a while since he’s been with all of his friends, but also because he knows Holster’s going to be there.

Ransom dons his favorite Falconers hoodie and coordinates with Shitty and Lardo so the three of them can carpool together and he feels _hopeful_. Tonight he’ll casually mention that he and Penny haven’t been together for a bit and maybe suggest he and Holster talk after the game and Ransom _knows_ it won’t be the same right away, but it could be better.

“Oh,” Bitty says upon seeing Ransom arrive with Lardo and Shitty. “I didn’t know you were coming Rans!”

“Got some stuff switched around last minute,” he says with a grin. “Good to see you Bitty.” They all trade hugs, but there’s something on Bitty’s face that seems… nervous. “Everything okay?”

“Course! Just happy to see y’all,” Bitty says. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his own jersey when he says, “Holster and his boyfriend are already here.”

Ransom freezes.

“Holster and his _who_?” Shitty demands. “That son of a Wonderful Woman never tells me anything!” He hoots out a laugh and sprints forward, toward their section, while Ransom stays frozen. Lardo shoots a nervous look over her shoulder before hurrying after him.

Holster and his boyfriend.

Holster has a boyfriend?

“Rans?” Bitty asks.

He blinks a few times before he realizes he has to respond. “Huh?”

“You didn’t know about Scott?” he asks. He falls into step beside Bitty. “I know you and Holtz have, um. Been talking again?”

“Well you know us,” Ransom says, not really sure what he means.

“Sure,” Bitty responds, also clearly not really sure what he means. “It’s, um. Been a couple of months for them, I think,” Bitty tells him. Is Scott tall or short? White? Black? Asian? Did he play hockey? What does he do now? “They met at a conference,” Bitty carries on slowly, God bless him, and Ransom digests this information as fast as he can. “Scott travels a lot so it was lucky he was in town for the game.”

“Lucky,” Ransom echoes.

“Oh, _Rans_ ,” Bitty says.

But there’s nothing else to say. The hope that Ransom had let bloom in his ribcage like a smattering of wildflowers in a meadow has already started to decay into nothingness. He and Holster had their chance. They blew it. That’s it.

“It’s okay,” he tells Bitty. “How’ve you and Jack been?” he asks, changing the subject. It’s been a little different since the two of them announced their engagement, and Bitty’s happy to lean into it. He starts rambling on and on about press conferences and interviews and Ransom lets himself get distracted by the cadence of Bitty’s voice.

And then he sees Holster and Scott.

Or rather, he arrives just in time to watch Holster cup Scott’s cheeks and kiss him on the nose.

Scott (tall, white, messy black hair, crazy amount of freckles, glasses to match Holster’s) wrinkles his nose but laughs and catches Holster’s chin, tugging him in for a real kiss.

It’s too sweet to stomach.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Ransom says suddenly, stopping.

“Let me come with you!” Bitty insists.

Bitty ends up in line beside him, fidgeting and rambling to fill the silence, and it’s actually nice. If Ransom was alone he’d go full coral reef and he really does not have time for that in the middle of a hockey game. And--hockey’s plenty distracting! He hasn’t been to an actual game in so fucking long that Ransom will totally be okay.

They’re almost back to their section when Bitty slows down a bit. “Um, Rans?” he wonders, and Ransom turns to him. “It’s… probably not my place,” he says. “But--Holtz hasn’t seriously dated in a while, you know? I think maybe you two working on being friends again helped him get some closure.”

Closure.

Has Holster been hung up on him this whole time? Like--he more or less admitted to actively avoiding Ransom for years. But.

Have the two of them really been thinking about each other all this time, too stubborn to actually pick up the phone? Ransom can’t let himself even think about it.

“If Holtz is happy,” Ransom says, “then that’s all that matters.”

Bitty gnaws on his bottom lip, nodding.

When they get to their section everyone’s there. Nursey and Chowder and Dex and Ollie and Wicks and there are so many hugs that Ransom _knows_ he can do this. He can get through this night.

Holster’s the last person to hug him. “I didn’t know you were coming,” he says quietly, pulling back. He looks guilty, almost. “I wouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay,” Ransom tells him. He turns to Scott, a step behind Holster. “Hi,” he greets.

“The famous Justin Oluransi,” Scott says with a grin. “God--Adam never shuts up about you, dude, I feel like I know you already.” He hugs Ransom too, like they’re old friends, and it’s an annoyingly good hug.

“Scott, right?”

The only seat left open is between Lardo and Dex, and Ransom happily takes it after some small talk. Distance is good. And other friends are also good. Ransom’s not going to let the whole night go sour because he created some stupid fantasy of him and Holster in the back of Holster’s jeep like they were seniors sneaking around again. Especially not because they’re all _here_ , their family, back together for the first time in forever just like they’re supposed to be.

Jack plays phenomenally, as always, and Lardo says that it’s just because he’s showing off for all of them because it’s been so long since they’ve all been out together.

Ransom catches up with Lardo and snickers when Nursey leans over Chowder to openly flirt with Dex and definitely does not let his eyes stray to Holster and Scott who are holding hands and sometimes share kisses when someone scores a point.

When Ransom excuses himself to the bathroom at one point, he’s nearly there before someone grabs his shoulder. He turns to find Holster, looking worried, and Ransom exhales at once.

“It’s okay,” he says.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Holster says again. “I feel like an asshole.”

“You’re allowed to bring your boyfriend to things, Holtz,” Ransom murmurs. “I just didn’t know you had one.”

“Well I didn’t know you and Penny ended things so I guess that makes us even,” Holster tosses back. Ransom’s eyes widen before Holster says, “Shitty told me, bro. C’mon.”

“How long’ve you been seeing this guy?” he asks, even though Bitty already told him. He just needs to hear it from Holster.

“Couple months.”

So right after he saw Ransom and Penny together.

“Is this a spite boyfriend?” Ransom finds himself asking. “Did you just see me and Pen and--”

“Are you seriously asking me I’m dating someone just to make you jealous?” Holster stops him. Something dark flashes in his eyes. “Justin I’ve been hung up on you for fucking ever. Scott makes me laugh. He’s the first guy in a long time that just makes me fucking _laugh_.”

“Fuck.” Ransom lifts his hands to his face. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he warbles.

“Yes you did,” Holster snaps. “Why are you even here tonight?”

“Because I wanted--!” Ransom starts to shout, but he stops himself. He looks Holster in the eyes for the first time all night. “I thought we could talk,” he says. He owes Holster his honesty. Maybe if he’d been more honest that night at the party, or any of the time in between…

“I’ve already said everything I needed to say,” Holster says.

“I haven’t.”

He watches Holster’s lips part. “Rans,” he pleads. “Please don’t do this to me now.”

“I never knew you wanted to try, Adam,” Ransom tells him, shaking his head. “I never knew that you--of course I would’ve fought for you too. I thought--I was just so stressed around when we broke up that I just _accepted_ it.”

“ _Justin_.”

“I’m sorry,” Ransom says, dropping his gaze. “For all of it. It’s--timing,” he says with a little laugh that he has to force out. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m just fucking things up for us.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Holster asks, voice tight. “I told you! At that party I told you how I felt and you just--!” Holster turns, taking a step away from him, before stepping back to him. “Rans I like this guy.”

“I know, I know,” Ransom says, even though he _doesn’t_ know. He _can’t_ know. He doesn’t want to know what Holster likes about him, what they talk about, who they are to each other. The less Scott actually exists as a person in Ransom’s head, the easier this will be. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry.”

They both stand there a moment longer without speaking, taking one another in.

Ransom misses him more than words.

He turns on his heel and hurries off to the bathroom, almost hoping that Holster will follow him.

He doesn’t.


	3. wedding

Jack and Bitty get married on a Saturday afternoon in the spring.

The weather is perfect, the venue is perfect, the vows are perfect, Scott’s hand in Holster’s feels out of place.

He tries to ignore it. He’s been with Scott for nearly six months now and Holster’s happy. They have a good relationship, even if it’s different than what Holster’s used to in dating. Scott makes him laugh and Scott is genuinely kind and Scott knew this wedding would be weird and hard for Holster and has been incredibly supportive the whole time.

But his hand in Holster’s feels like it shouldn’t be.

Jack and Bitty are so sickeningly in love that it both overwhelms Holster with joy but also breaks his heart.

Ransom didn’t bring a date.

* * *

Nursey’s had a lot of champagne and Dex is actually smiling every time Nursey leans in to whisper something to him and Ransom can’t help but wonder what’s going on there. He’s always thought maybe the two of them had something between them but it’s a different kind of relationship with d-men so he thought maybe he was making things up.

“I’m not dancing with you,” Dex says through a laugh. He’s had some champagne too, Ransom’s noticed. He’s noticing a lot of things tonight because engaging with the people around him is exhausting.

It’s easier to hyper-fixate on his friends and what they’re doing than to pay attention to the ache in his chest.

Is he ever going to fall in love again? Find the Jack to his Bitty? The Lardo to his Shitty?

He glances over at Holtz and finds him looking in Ransom’s direction. His gaze darts down the second their eyes meet but Ransom lets himself watch a second longer.

“Please?” Nursey presses. “D-man dance!” He looks to Ransom, then to Holster. “D-man dance?” he offers.

Ransom forces out a laugh. “No way.”

“It’s a wedding!” Nursey protests. He leaps onto his feet, offering his hand to Dex. “Dance with me!” And then again. “D-man dance! C’mon!”

“I’ll dance with you if Holtz and Rans dance too,” Dex says easily, holding out his hands.

Ransom looks back to Holster who has a new stain of pink to his cheeks. “You should dance,” Scott murmurs from beside him, his smile small and hesitant and probably forced. “It’s a wedding, babe.”

Ransom’s stomach turns.

“Rans?” Holster asks. The first thing he’s said to Ransom all night other than their quick greeting when they first saw each other in the church. In a mock whisper he adds, “Maybe this’ll make Nursey and Dex get their shit together.”

“Fuck off,” Dex laughs, taking Nursey’s outstretched hand. “Come on, assholes,” Dex says to the two of them.

“Yeah, okay,” Ransom decides.

It’s a wedding. Friends dance together. D-men have a special bond, everyone knows that.

Holster hurries out of his seat too, his smile blooming, and Ransom lets himself have this. It’s okay to have a moment.

The song is something soft and slow and Holster starts it off by being ridiculously goofy. He bows for Ransom and offers him a hand and it’s ridiculous, but it makes Ransom smile.

The only time they’ve ever slow-danced together was at Winter Screw their senior year, and that night changed everything for them. It was when they took their Something Vague and made it Something Real. Ransom closes his eyes as they draw one another in and for a moment he transports himself back there, to the beginning of them.

“I can’t believe Bits and Jack are _married_ ,” Holster whispers in his ear.

Ransom exhales a soft laugh. “I can.”

“Okay, I can too,” Holster returns, and Ransom can hear the smile in his voice. He presses his face into Holster’s neck and breathes him in, exhaling when Holster pulls him closer. “They deserve it.”

“They do,” Ransom whispers back.

But what do _they_ deserve? He and Holster? Just moments like this?

“Shitty and Lardo’ll be next,” Holster tells him, and Ransom nods. “Then…”

 _Us_ , Ransom thinks. It should be them.

“Chowder and Farmer,” Ransom manages.

It’s tight when Holster agrees. “Mm. Ollie and Wicks.”

“Nursey and Dex,” he tries to tease, but his voice catches.

Holster tugs him closer. “Maybe.”

When the song ends and Ransom pulls back, the look on Holster’s face is everything he’s dreamed about.

But he can’t have it.

They love each other, he can feel it in his bones. But they’ve missed their chance. Miscommunication from a few years ago has them misaligned, steps no longer in sync, and it’s as simple as that.

Sometimes love isn’t enough.

Ransom steps away forcefully. He needs distance.

“Rans?” Holster exhales.

Ransom shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he returns weakly. He stumbles backwards a step. “I really want to be friends with you Holtz but I don’t think I can.”

“Justin,” Holster tries.

“You were right. It hurts too much,” he rasps, stumbling away.

Ransom feels like he’s going to cry and he can’t wait here any longer. He shakes his head and takes another step back, and another, and after a glance around the reception room one last time he turns and runs out as fast as he can.

* * *

Holster is left standing on the dance floor.

He knows it shouldn’t hurt like this. He has Scott. He’s happy with Scott.

But it does hurt.

It feels like his heart’s been ripped out of his chest all over again. Like someone’s shoved him into the deep end and he’s forgotten how to swim. Like no breath is enough to breathe in the amount of air that he actually needs.

The music fades and the world around him twists.

He can’t lose Ransom again.

He spins, looking for someone, _anyone_ that will bring him an ounce of comfort. And everyone is. Lardo and Shitty dancing nearby both wait with their eyes wide. Bitty, at the front table with Jack, is gnawing on his bottom lip. Nursey and Dex trade a look with one another before looking back to Holster, confusion all over their faces.

And then there’s Scott.

Holster crosses the room to the table where his boyfriend is waiting for him, but the look on his face says it all.

“Scott…”

Scott’s smile is sad. “Go, Adam. It’s okay.”

Still, Holster’s frozen. “I’m so sorry,” he rasps, but Scott shakes his head.

“I’ve always kind of known.”

Holster turns and sprints out of the reception hall.

His heart is beating faster than it ever has before and he can’t help but think that this is their last chance. They’ve already had one too many and if this is it, if he lets this go then there's nothing left. He and Ransom are done, flame burned out, opportunity missed.

In the hallway, Holster stops. The venue is huge and there are offshoots all over the place and Ransom could be anywhere.

“Justin?” he calls. He’s still panting and he walks slowly so he can listen for signs of him. “ _Justin!_ ”

Ransom emerges from a hallway a little farther down, a look of confusion on his face. “Adam?”

And then Holster’s sprinting again. Ransom stays planted where he is, lips parted and eyes wide as he waits for Holster to reach him. Holster slows, stopping a few feet away.

“I love you,” Holster exhales. “Like, I’m never gonna love anyone the way that I love you.”

“ _Adam_.”

“We have wasted _so much time_ ,” Holster chokes, stepping toward him slowly. “Do you love me too?”

 _“Yes,”_ Ransom breathes. They fumble for one another’s hands and tug each other closer, foreheads resting together, noses brushing, sharing breath. “I always have.”

“Do you want to be together?”

Ransom answers him with a kiss and everything falls back into place in an instant.

Nothing has made more sense than this, than the two of them together. They stumble back down the hallway out of the main area, their hands struggling to figure out where they want to be. They both wind the other closer, Ransom cupping both of Holster’s cheeks, Holster’s around Ransom’s waist or up his back.

It’s a messy kiss because it’s more desperate than anything else but for the first time in years Holster feels like his breathing has returned to normal.

* * *

Ransom laughs.

Holster pulls back, dazed, and his mouth curves into a smile too. “Don’t do that,” he murmurs, voice thick, and it only makes Ransom laugh harder.

Still he kisses Holster again and again, pushing through his smiles because Holster’s right--they’ve wasted so much time. But then Holster’s laughing too, the both of them struggling to actually kiss because their smiles are too wide.

“I love you,” Ransom exhales between them. He hasn’t put it in words yet like Holster has. “So much.”

Holster dips in for another kiss, less frantic than before. Slow and intentional and makes something deep inside of Ransom burn. Almost as though he knows this Holster presses closer, pinning Ransom to the wall with his hips.

They need to get out of here.

“Holtz,” Ransom rasps. “Scott?”

Holster really pulls back now, his face flooding with a subtle regret. “He said to go,” he whispers.

Ransom readjusts, one hand up to cup Holster’s cheek so he can drag his thumb along his jawline. “Is that okay?” he asks. “Are you okay with that?”

Holster’s smile is fake, Ransom knows right away. “I don’t know,” he answers. “I suck,” Holster murmurs, shaking his head a little. “He’s great, but he’s not…” he trails off, lowering his forehead back to Ransom’s. Holster lets out a shuddering sigh. “I’m such a dick.”

“You care about him,” Ransom murmurs. “You’re not a dick. This is messy.”

“I haven’t been giving him what I should,” Holster rasps. “For awhile now. And I don’t think I can.” There’s a guilt that settles inside of Ransom, too. However small, however brief. He nods a little to show Holtz he understands and Holster exhales softly. But his smile flickers back in a moment and it feels a little out of place but Ransom can’t fight his own. “Rans…” Holster whispers.

“I know, Holtz.”

They’ll need better words to explain this later, to talk through the complications of everything that’s happened. But for now they have this moment, and it’s enough.

* * *

When they get back to the reception hall, Scott’s gone.

But the whole team cheers.

Bitty and Jack at the front of the room share a grin and hold up their glasses in acknowledgement. Shitty sprints across the room to envelop the both of them in a hug. There’s laughter and chirping and Holster’s face hurts from his smile.

Nursey demands some sort of dance song be put on and then the whole team is on the floor together. It feels like a celebration of Holster and Ransom which is weird in the middle of Jack and Bitty’s wedding, but Jack and Bitty join them soon and more hugs and pleasantries are traded.

“Nice party,” Holster hears Ransom tell Jack in the midst of it.

Jack laughs, shaking his head a little. “Happy to help,” he jokes.

Holster finally gets a moment alone with Lardo and her smile is just as warm as everyone else’s. It fades when Holster asks, “Scott left?”

“Called a Lyft,” she tells him with a nod.

“How’d he seem?” Holster asks, and Lardo shrugs a little.

“Said you’d been off ever since the hockey game,” she answers. “Seemed bummed, but not devastated.” Holster grimaces a little but Lardo shakes her head. “You can’t force yourself to be with someone that it doesn’t work with, Holtz,” she says. “He knew that. You know that.”

Holster nods, but it still sucks. It’s not that he was stringing Scott along - he really thought that it could work. And he really does care for him. But it’s not love, and Holster’s known that for awhile now.

“You and Rans…” Lardo trails off. “Fight for it this time.”

He nods firmly. Holster could search his whole life to find something similar but he knows it won’t come. And he doesn’t want to search anymore anyway.

“With my life,” he tells her.

* * *

When Ransom thinks of all the time that’s passed, it makes his heart ache.

Years of memories they could’ve been making together, dozens of gatherings where they all could have been together. How anyone on the team can tolerate either of them with the bullshit they put them through is a surprise.

But then Ransom thinks of all the time they have left.

New memories, new gatherings, new chances.

“We’ve got a lifetime ahead of us,” Ransom says.

They’re at Ransom’s apartment now. It was closer to the wedding venue than Holster’s place and they’re side by side in bed. Holtz has been trailing his fingers over Ransom’s bare chest, soft swirling patterns that bring him goosebumps.

“If we don’t fuck it up,” Holster murmurs.

“Oh, we definitely will,” Ransom tells him.

It brings a smile to Holster’s face immediately. “Good luck trying to get rid of me this time,” he returns.

Ransom grins.

They’ll be okay.


End file.
